Sitting Shiva: A Poem from Lesléa Newman

We are honored to share a poem from I Carry My Mother by Lesléa Newman.

Lesléa Newmanknown for her children’s book Heather Has Two Mommies, explores illness and death in her newest book. From diagnosis through yahrzeit (one-year anniversary of death), she grapples with what it means to lose a mother. To honor her mother’s memory, Lesléa Newman will donate $1.00 to the Cancer Connection for each book ordered by January 25 (her mom’s birthday).

SITTING SHIVA

Mirrors are covered
Wooden benches are set out
Have a good mourning

Where’s the coffee pot?
I ask my father, who knows
my mother would know

Welcome. Please come in.
Sit anywhere. Except there!
That’s my mother’s chair

Ancient Hebrew prayers
cannot bring my mother back,
so what good are they?

My aunt spills her tea
when I speak to her softly
in my mother’s voice

White coffee cup smeared
with my mother’s red lipstick.
Don’t you dare wash it.

Chocolate rugelach
my mother and I both love
clog my throat like mud

My mother’s old friend
cups my face with both her hands
Fingers wet with tears

My aunt stands to leave.
“Call if you need anything.”
I need my mother.

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